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SCENE I. Another part of the island.
Let liberty make use of; space enough
It works:-Come on. Thou hast done well, fine Ariel!-Follow me.[To FERD. and MIRA.
Hark, what thou else shalt do me. [To ARIEL.
My father's of a better nature, sir,
Ant. He could not miss it. Adr. It must needs be of subtle, tender, and delicate temperance *.
Ant. Temperance was a delicate wench. Seb. Ay, and a subtle; as he most learnedly delivered.
Adr. The air breathes upon us here most
The masters of some merchant, and the mer-sweetly.
Have just our theme of woe : but for the miracle,
Gon. When every grief is entertain'd, that's Comes to the entertainer[offer'd,
Seb. A dollar. Gon. Dolor comes to him, indeed; you have spoken truer than you purposed. Seb. You have taken it wiselier than I meant you should.
Gon. Therefore, my lord,
Ant. Fie, what a spendthrift is he of his tongue!
Alon. I pr'ythee, spare.
Gon. Well, I have done: But yet
Seb. He will be talking.
Ant. Which of them, he, or Adrian, for a
good wager, first begins to crow?
Seb. The old cock.
Ant. The cockrel.
Seb. Ha, ha, ha!
Ant. So, you've pay'd.
Seb. As if it had lungs, and rotten ones.
Ant. The ground, indeed, is tawny.
Seb.No; he doth but mistake the truth totally. Gon. But the rarity of it is (which is indeed almost beyond credit)—
Seb. As many vouch'd rarities are.
Gon. That our garments, being, as they were, drenched in the sea, hold, notwithstanding, their freshness and glosses; being rather new dy'd than stain'd with salt water.
Ant. If but one of his pockets could speak, would it not say, he lies?
Seb. Ay, or very falsely pocket up his report. Gon. Methinks, our garments are now as fresh as when we put them on first in Afric, at the marriage of the king's fair daughter Claribel to the king of Tunis.
Seb. 'Twas a sweet marriage, and we prosper well in our return.
Adr. Tunis was never graced before with such a paragon to their queen.
Gon. Not since widow Dido's time. Ant. Widow? a pox o' that! How came that widow in? Widow Dido!
Seb. What if he had said, widower Æneas too? good lord, how you take it!
Adr. Widow Dido, said you? you make me
Adr. Uninhabitable, and almost inacces-study of that: she was of Carthage, not of Seb. Yet.
Shade of colour.
Ant. Why, in good time.
Gon. Sir, we were talking that our garments seem now as fresh, as when we were at Tunis at the marriage of your daughter, who is now queen.
Ant. And the rarest that e'er came there. Seb. 'Bate, I beseech you, widow Dido. Ant. O, widow Dido; ay, widow Dido. Gon. Is not, sir, my doublet as fresh as the first day I wore it? I mean, in a sort *. Ant. That sort was well fish'd for. Gon. When I wore it at your daughter's marriage? [against Alon. You cram these words into mine ears, The stomach of my sense: 'Would I had never Married my daughter there! for, coming thence, My son is lost; and, in my rate, she too, Who is so far from Italy remov'd,
I ne'er again shall see her. O thou mine heir Of Naples and of Milan, what strange fish Hath made his meal on thee!
Fran. Sir, he may live; I saw him beat the surges under him, And ride upon their backs; he trod the water, Whose enmity he flung aside, and breasted The surge most swoln that met him: his bold head
'Bove the contentious waves he kept, and oar'd Himself with his good arms in lusty stroke To the shore, that o'er his wave-worn basis bow'd,
As stooping to relieve him: I not doubt,
No, no, he's gone. Seb. Sir, you may thank yourself for this great loss; [daughter, That would not bless our Europe with your But rather lose her to an African; Where she, at least, is banish'd from your eye, Who hath cause to wet the grief on't. Alon.
Pr'ythee, peace. Seb. You were kneel'd to, and impórtun'd otherwise
By all of us; and the fair soul herself Weigh'd, between lothness and obedience, at Which end o' the beam she'd bow. We have
Seb. 'Scape being drunk, for want of wine.
Execute all things: for no kind of traffic
Seb. And yet he would be king on't. Ant. The latter end of his commonwealth forgets the beginning. [produce
Gon. All things in common nature should Without sweat or endeavour: treason, felony, Sword, pike, knife, gun,or need of any enginet, Would I not have; but nature should bring forth, Of its own kind, all foizon ‡, all abundance, To feed my innocent people.
Seb. No marrying 'mong his subjects? Ant. None,man; all idle; whores and knaves. Gon. I would with such perfection govern, To excel the golden age. [sir, Seb.
Save his majesty!
Ant. Long live Gonzalo !
And, do you mark me, sir?— Alon. Pr'ythee, no more: thou dost talk nothing to me.
Gen. I do well believe your highness; and did it to minister occasion to these gentlemen, who are of such sensible and nimble lungs, that they always use to laugh at nothing. Ant. Twas you we laugh'd at.
Gon. Who, in this kind of merry fooling, am nothing to you; so you may continue, and laugh at nothing still.
Ant. What a blow was there given?.
Gon You are gentlemen of brave mettle; you would lift the moon out of her sphere, if she would continue in it five weeks without changing.
Enter ARIEL invisible, playing solemn
Seb. We would so, and then go a bat-fowling. Ant. Nay, good my lord, be not angry. Gon. No, I warrant you; I will not adventure my discretion so weakly. Will you laugh me asleep, for I am very heavy?
+ The rack.
We two, my lord,
Will guard your person, while you take your And watch your safety. [rest, Alon. Thank you: Wond'rous heavy. [ALONSO sleeps. Exit ARIEL. Seb. What a strange drowsiness possesses them!
Ant. It is the quality o' the climate. Seb. Why Doth it not then our eye-lids sink? I find not Myself dispos'd to sleep. Ant.
Nor I; my spirits are nimble. They fell together all, as by consent; They dropp'd, as by a thunder-stroke. What might, [more:
Worthy Sebastian?-O, what might ?-No
My strong imagination sees a crown
What, art thou waking? Ant. Do you not hear me speak? Seb. I do; and, surely, It is a sleepy language; and thou speak'st Out of thy sleep: What is it thou didst say? This is a strange repose, to be asleep With eyes wide open; standing, speaking, And yet so fast asleep. [moving, Ant. Noble Sebastian, Thou let'st thy fortune sleep die rather; Whiles thou art waking, [wink'st Seb. Thou dost snore distinctly; There's meaning in thy snores. Ant. I am more serious than my custom: you Must be so too, if heed me; which to do, Trebles thee o'er.
Seb. Well; I am standing water. Ant. I'll teach you how to flow. Seb. Do so: to ebb, Hereditary sloth instructs me. Ant.
0, If you but knew how you the purpose cherish, Whiles thus you mock it! how, in stripping it, You more invest it! Ebbing men, indeed, Most often do so near the bottom run, By their own fear, or sloth. Seb. Pr'ythee, say on: The setting of thine eye and cheek proclaim A matter from thee; and a birth, indeed, Which throes thee much to yield. Ant. Thus, sir: Although this lord of weak remembrance, this (Who shall be of as little memory, When he is earth'd,)hath here almost persuaded
(For he's a spirit of persuasion only,)
Who's the next heir of Naples? Seb.
Then tell me,
Seb. What stuff is this? how say you 'Tis true, my brother's daughter's queen of Tunis;
So is she heir of Naples; 'twixt which regions There is some space.
Ant. A space whose every cubit Seems to cry out, How shall that Claribel Measure us back to Naples ?-Keepin Tonis, And let Sebastian wake!-Say, this were death That now hath seized them; why they were [Naples, Than now they are: There be, that can rule As well as he that sleeps; lords, that can prate As amply, and unnecessarily, As this Gonzalo; I myself could make A chough* of as deep chat. O, that you bore The mind that I do! what a sleep were this ; For your advancement! Do you understand me, Seb. Methinks I do.
Ant. And how does your content Tender your own good fortune? Seb.
I remember, You did supplant your brother Prospero. Ant.
And, look, how well my garments sit upon me? Much feater than before: My brother's servants Were then my fellows, now they are my men.
Seb. But, for your conscience- (kibe, Ant. Ay, sir, where lies that? if it were a 'Twould put me to my slipper; but I feel not This deity in my bosom: twenty consciences, That stand'twixt me and Milan,candied be they, And melt, ere they molest! Here lies your brother,
No better than the earth he lies upon,
* A bird of the jack-daw kind.
To the perpetual wink for aye* might put
Thy case, dear friend,
O, but one word.
Music. Re-enter ARIEL, invisible.
(For else his project dies,) to keep them living.
While you here do snoring lie,
His time doth take:
If of life you keep a care,
Ant. Then let us both be sudden.
Wherefore this ghastly looking?
SCENE II. Another part of the island.
Cal. All the infections that the sun sucks up
By inch-meal a disease! His spirits hear me.
Fright me with urchin shows, pitch me i' the
Do hiss me into madness:-Lo! now! lo!
Here comes a spirit of his ; and to torment me,
Trin. Here's neither bush nor shrub, to bear off any weather at all, and another stora brewing; I hear it sing i' the wind: yond' same black cloud, yond' huge one, looks like a foul bumbard that would shed his liquor. If it should thunder, as it did before, I know not where to hide my head: yond' same cloud cannot choose but fall by pailfuls.-What have we here? a man or a fish? Dead or alive? A fish: he smells like a fish; a very ancient and fish-like smell; a kind of, not of the newest, Poor-John. A strange fish! Were I in England now, (as once I was,) and had but this fish painted, not a holiday-fool there but would give a piece of silver: there would this monster make a man; any strange beast there makes a man: when they will not give a doit to relieve lame beggar, they will lay out ten to see a dead Indian. Legg'd like a man! and his fins Heard you this, Gonzalo? like arms! Warm, o' my troth! I do now let Gon. Upon mine honour, sir, I heard a hum- loose my opinion, hold it no longer; this is no ming, [me: fish, but an islander, that hath lately suffered And that a strange one too, which did awake by a thunderbolt. [Thunder.] Alas! the storm Ishak'd you,sir, and cry'd; as mine eyes open'd, is come again: my best way is to creep under I saw their weapons drawn :-there was a noise, his gaberdine; there is no other shelter bere. That's verity: Best stand upon our guard; about: Misery acquaints a man with strange Or that we quit this place: let's draw our bed-fellows. I will here shroud, till the dregs [further search of the storm be past. Alon. Lead off this ground; and let's make For my poor son.
Of a whole herd of lions.
Gon. Heavens keep him from these beasts!
Ari. Prospero, my lord, shall
Enter STEPHANO, singing; a bottle in his
Ste. I shall no more to sea, to sea,
Lead away. know what I [Aside. This is a very scurvy tune to sing at a man's So, king, go safely on to seek thy son. [Exeunt. funeral: Well, here's my comfort. [Drinks.
The frock of a peasant.
The master,the swabber,theboatswain,and1, | culo, indeed: How cam'st thou to be the sieget
Cal. Do not torment me: O! Ste. What's the matter? Have we devils! here? Do you put tricks upon us with savages, and men of Inde*? Ha! I have not 'scaped drowning, to be afeard now of your four legs; for it hath been said, As proper a man as ever went on four legs, cannot make him give ground: and it shall be said so again, whilst Stephano breathes at nostrils.
Cal. The spirit torments me: O!
Ste. This is some monster of the isle, with four legs; who hath got, as I take it, an ague: Where the devil should he learn our language? I will give him some relief, if it be but for that: If I can recover him, and keep him tame, and get to Naples with him, he's a present for any emperor that ever trode on neat's leather.
Cal. Do not torment me, pr'ythee; I'll bring my wood home faster.
Ste. He's in his fit now; and does not talk after the wisest. He shall taste of my bottle: if he have never drunk wine afore, it will go near to remove his fit: if I can recover him,and keep him tame, I will not take too much for him: he shall pay for him that hath him,and that soundly. Cal. Thon dost me yet but little hurt; thou wilt anon, I know it by thy trembling: Now Prosper works upon thee.
Ste. Come on your ways; open your mouth; here is that which will give language to you,cat; open your mouth: this will shake yourshaking, I can tell you, and that soundly: you cannot tell who's your friend: open your chaps again.
Trin. I should know that voice: It should be-But he is drowned; and these are devils: O! defend me!
Ste. Four legs, and two voices; a most delicate monster! His forward voice now is to speak well of his friend; his backward voice is to ntter foul speeches, and to detract. If all the wine in my bottle will recover him, I will help his ague: Come,-Amen! I will pour some in thy other mouth.
Ste. Doth thy other mouth call me? Mercy! mercy! This is a devil, and no monster: 1 will leave him; I have no long spoon.
Trin. Stephano!-if thou beest Stephano, touch me, and speak to me; for I am Trinculo;-be not afeard,-thy good friend Trinculo. Ste. If thou beest Trinculo, come forth; I'll pull thee by the lesser legs: if any be Trinculo's legs, these are they. Thou art very Trin
Trin. I took him to be killed with a thunder-stroke:-But art thou not drowned, Stephano? I hope now, thou art not drowned. Is the storm overblown? I hid me under the dead moon-calf's gaberdine, for fear of the storm: And art thou living, Stephano? O Stephano, two Neapolitans 'scaped!
Ste. Pr'ythee, do not turn me about; my stomach is not constant. [sprites. Cal. These be fine things, an if they be not That's a brave god, and bears celestial liquor: I will kneel to him.
Ste. How did'st thou 'scape? How cam'st thou hither? swear by this bottle, how thou cam'st hither. I escaped upon a butt of sack, which the sailors heaved over-board, by this bottle! which I made of the bark of a tree, with mine own hands, since I was cast a-shore. Cal. I'll swear, upon that bottle, to be thy True subject; for the liquor is not earthly. Ste. Here; swear then how thou escap❜dst. Trin. Swam a-shore, man, like a duck; I can swim like a duck, I'll be sworn.
Ste. Here,kiss the book: Though thou canst swim like a duck, thou art made like a goose. Trin. O Stephano, hast any more of this?
Ste. The whole butt, man; my cellar is in a rock by the sea-side, where my wine is hid. How now, moon-calf? how does thine ague?
Cal. Hast thou not dropped from heaven? Ste. Out o' the moon, I do assure thee: I was the man in the moon, when time was. Cal. I have seen thee in her, and I do adore
My mistress shewed me thee, thy dog, and bush. Ste. Come, swear to that; kiss the book: I will furnish it anon with new contents: swear.
Trin. By this good light, this is a very shallow monster:-1 afeard of him?-a very weak monster :-The man i' the moon?-a most poor credulous monster:-Well drawn, mon. ster, in good sooth.
Cal. I'll shew thee every fertile inch o' the
And kiss thy foot: I pr'ythee, be my god.
Cal. I'll kiss thy foot: I'll swear myself thy Ste. Come on then; down, and swear. Trin. I shall laugh myself to death at this puppy-headed monster: A most scurvy monster! I could find in my heart to beat him,Ste. Come, kiss.
Trin. but that the poor monster's in drink: An abominable monster!
Cal. I'll shew thee the best springs; I'll
I'll fish for thee, and get thee wood enough.
Trin. A most ridiculous monster; to make a wonder of a poor drunkard,